Miley’s white leggings

It takes balls to step out in white leggings and a crop top. You have to feel good. Or you have to front like you’re feeling good. Still, when I’m fronting like I’m feeling good, it always happens to be black. White is so unforgiving. White exposes. White shows everything. It’s practically an x-ray.

Miley must have been feeling pretty confident yesterday.

Confidence or bravado?

Why do I bother asking? If we polled this, most of you would say bravado. That she’s posting up like she’s a real woman, real mature, and the owning of her sh-t and being true to herself script is all just lip service and Twitter speak, as demonstrated on her new track We Can’t Stop. After all, if she was legit, she wouldn’t be singing about ecstasy and cocaine, supposedly.

Miley’s people have been trying to deny the drug references in her song but it’s hard to ignore that she’s spent the last few years trying to kill Hannah Montana and, like so many of her predecessors, she killed Hannah Montana by being sexually suggestive. So the hair cut, the styling, the perceived lusty aggression, all of it is working together to bury Miley’s old innocence. What’s interesting though is that the innocence and the now lack of innocence are totally the same. We demand purity from a child star, especially the female ones. It’s the only way we will buy them. And this is why they sold her that way. They have to promise to remain virgins. They have to swear that they love God. They have to represent those institutionalised ideals we continue to force on our girls, regardless of whether or not that’s actually who they are. When they decide it’s not who they are, the only thing they think they can be is the exact opposite...which might not be entirely authentic either. Sometimes it takes them another 10 years to figure it out, if they ever do.

As for We Can’t Stop -- summer is the dumping ground for sh-t music so, yeah, it’s already on my iPod and obviously I love it. Just like I loved Party In The USA. I don’t know why she has to eat so much dick for putting out a totally generic, irritatingly catchy song though. I’ll take We Can’t Stop over anything by Maroon 5.